The Thief Azazel
by RococoSpade
Summary: A story about overcoming grief, building bridges, and learning to live with someone who utterly hates you. Or at least that's how Zelda and Sheik see it. Set post Skyward Sword. Spoilers. Warnings on profile. Sheik/Link slash
1. The Traitor Returns Alive

This is more or less the... origins story for any fics I write in the Zelda verse, Interwoven excluded. It's been betaed and brainstormed over with MyouTakara, the author of some infamous fourswords stuff over on Adult Fanfiction...

This story does include a male sheikah. But considering the usual crowd I draw, that won't be much of a big deal, I think. The OC is his shadow caster - so more or less on par with any talking Dark Links. Myuuuun. I hope you enjoy.

Gods, religion and weirdness appear, as per norm.

* * *

**Chapter 1: The Traitor Returns Alive**

If only he had known the end coming, perhaps time could have been turned back… Alas, that was not how humans would have this tale be woven. And so a thief went on a hopeless journey to find his way home…

* * *

The warrior returns alive, but only to the darkness and peace of the temple, and so he knew it must have been that his masters had failed…

The bracelet gleamed so prettily as it fell back into Hylia's hands. There were tears and sorrow in the court below, but there was also joy. He couldn't reach out and grasp it – it wasn't his to obtain.

He perched in the darkness, gazing down at blurred nothing. In the end he supposed he had always known, wrapped up though he had been in carrying food, offering drink. But the guardian would only fast in waiting for her hero, the fair goddess Hylia. The goddess his masters were trying to undermine. The enemy… 'his' enemy. It hadn't at all felt personal until memory had taken her. Taking his beloved Impa away…

Down below the dark and suffering, hylians basked in elation and waiting, oblivious, for the hero's return. The doors creaked as they opened to admit the sun and shimmering light danced over the floor, followed by a long shadow.

Link was black against the day, a svartlfar – he liked him better like that, almost. Light was strange lacking shadow. Form without substance… a two-dimensional being.

The doors creaked, banged shut and settled in the stone again. The young hero looked up and, for a strange and numb moment, he could swear Link could see him in the gloom of despair.

Hylia – Zelda – grinned ear to ear, running to meet her Hero, and the illusion was shattered. There was nothing to see in those rafters but old ghosts.

He stayed in the dark, and stared at where the other ghost had lain. So long that even the bones were gone… or was it because dying without leaving a corpse was their way? He could never be sure, now…

The evil was purged, the swords banished or returned, and the goddess, awakened. Her hero had arrived.

All that was left was for him to fade into darkness…

When his steps fled the temple, only the stones bore them witness.

* * *

The traitor returned alive…

Through a desert and over a sea, the traitor-prince trekked to return to his lands. Blood crusted on old wounds and made his skin rough, while the sun baked his body and sand and wind tried to rend him in twain. His eyes were hot and a misery before the journey – his heart ached with want for someone who was no longer there. So he walked.

And eventually, came upon the hills of his old home, and looked down on the people. Tan-skinned and red-eyed with sharp ears and warm smiles, though he would never more have one of those directed at _him. _And as he came down into the village, whispers carried on the wind, with the glares of the rightfully mistrustful; _the traitor returns alive…_ hissed on spiteful tongue, callous hearts turned on his memory, for their prince was no dearly-departed. Rather more… infamous as cowardly and cruel, traits which he would not contest. There would have been more honor in dying than accepting another god's dominion, and he had disgraced his people by living on.

His body began to tremble as he approached the temple.

The graves were as he imagined them… pretty little altars on the ends of thick slabs, untarnished. Blood and death had never touched these tables. Their parents hadn't had bodies left… he wondered if he would complete the set some day.

He laid down the cloak she'd worn atop their mother's grave, and fell to his knees. The crying of a lost child filled up the chamber of alms.

* * *

"Impa." The gem of royalty, the perfect daughter who dressed in humble holy colors and went to serve as a priestess in the gone-guardian's name. Hylia would return. She had promised to return, and the sheikah preserved the world at Her command – for Her love, and for Her Hylians. Impa had asked mother to read all of the stories. She smiled and stroked the faces of the statues, and washed their wings with a delicate hand. She would grow tall, as if all her reaching for the heavens and those far-off islands in the clouds (oh, they could see them on sunny days, to be sure) had stretched her so she could reach even higher.

She had read to them, often, by the lamplight – holy songs and scripture. Her beloved little brothers clutched at her legs, looking up with eyes that burned with the flames of destruction, and the lights of stars.

She went away to study in Lanayru when they were very young. While she was gone, her family died, and their home was scarred with memories inked in blood.

Their graves were overgrown with no one to mourn them.

"Talib." A seeker of truth. The ideal of its guard, the perfect little prince in a cradle. The next Sheik. Strangled lifeless by an agent of Demise, the feral Prince, the coming Destruction of everything She had touched and made good.

"Noor." A light. A moon, and something that could not be lived without… the other half of the prince, the pale-silver reflection. A light extinguished with his source drowned in the abyss of demise.

It was a dark time for the kingdom.

What was worse, perhaps, was the pair of traitors that appeared in the wake of the destruction, a few short years after. A man with a face painted as the foxes did, who called himself _Sheik_. And his grinning white shadow, the counterpart 'Light'. "Your beloved Azazel Goats."

* * *

Maybe it was surprising, but before the arrival of Demise, they had had a happy family.

The king and queen had wanted more children, and Sheik had brought the surprise of another. The temple priests called him a 'shadow caster' – a rare thing to have appear after the birth of a child. All sheikah had shadow casters – reflections of their hearts and dreams – but rarely would these distill into humans, and even more rarely would they appear in the surface realm…

There was a prophecy of course – that the child born with his light would bring about destruction; the slaughter of his family, the hatred of his people, and the blood of a hero painted on his cheeks. A traitor to Hylia, and a traitor to what her guards stood for. A thief and a cutthroat and a slave to his own rebellion.. he would hold his blade against the goddess, and be a Champion for all the evils of the world until a hero rose and struck him down. This wasn't set in stone – the prophecy could be averted… with the death of their helpless, squalling baby, and his helpless, squalling light.

The child laid on the altar for alms that night, innocent and helpless, smiling at the moon. It was a clear night, and the islands drifting miles above looked peaceful, and often the child would reach a chubby hand for them and try to touch. His reflection was curled against his side, asleep, and eyes shut peacefully. They lay there on a blanket to cover the cold stone, laid over the blood of those who came before, and left nothing but stains to remind that they'd ever been, as if to shield the truth of death to the children. Looking on them… thinking that they could have to bleed and die, unnaturally, cruelly, to preserve this fragile peace…. What was the point of peace where healthy children died to keep it? What was the point to this? Any child could be born with a caster – this, the priests had admitted to with tired, frustrated eyes. It wasn't an omen – it was a natural occurrence! Something that could happen to anyone, hardly a sign of things to come. And even if it was… well, surely, surely, that fate could be averted, right?

The goddess preached of warmth and kindness in a fair world. Of trust. Love. Their parents, full of all of these and more, had decided that surely it could mean anyone… and surely Talib would do no harm if he was brought up with a loving hand and a dedicated life…

So a goat was killed in his place, to honor Her, to ask for Her guidance, and love, and aid. And for the caster, the brother, a little Azazel goat turned out into the desert. And the priests had to concede, for the queen was queen and the king was king.

Their older sister wanted to be a priestess. She was too unruly, too fast and too frenzied and wild for palace life, so she was turned out to the temples as she wished. Her brothers were softer and milder… her brother of blood would be the next Sheik, and her brother of bond his guard, his friend, his other half. Surely this was written in the stars… it was all too perfect.

All too, naively, perfect.

* * *

He was in the temple again today. The moonlight painted it black and grey, corpselike, while the wail of wind rattling trees carried through it. The discord of day drained away like life from his feet when he sunk to the ground, home again, unfulfilled, hurting… and lying to himself, for what home had a vagrant to return to?

"I am a thief," He told himself in the gentle arms of the darkness, and shut his red-turned-black eyes to the world. Sheik dreamed of crows, and singing, and suffering. He did not dream of Impa. He did not even dream of the chapters of his life spent toiling under the king of wickedness and torment. And he did not wake when Light came into the temple, glowing like a lantern, and came to lay with him, and he did not wake to his own tears…

The goddess's song sung in high tones. The stone walls of a castle where he'd never stood, and the smile of a hero that would one day bring deliverance. This was what the villain dreamed of when he laid still that night.

**TBC**


	2. Keaton and the Falling Sky

Disclaimer since I missed it in 1: I do not own Legend of Zelda or it scharacters/worlds/whatever, and I am not profiting in any way from this material.

Kaeko the fox is, however, mine, and borrowed from his comic so I don't hav ot make a pantheon of gods for the setup I want. Whoo. He's not a main character.

Thanks to the people who reviewed last chapter, and much love to MyouTakara, who kindly betaed this for me.~ Seriously, reviews feed my hungry belly~ also, WHOOT THANKSGIVING BREAK. HAPPY TURKEY DAY, GLUTTONOUS AMERICANS. ENJOY YOUR TURKEY DONUTS and pizza. Mmm, pizza.

* * *

**Chapter 2: Keaton and the Falling Sky**

* * *

Link wiped some sweat from his brow and turned to look at the trees beside him curiously. The kikwi had gone to hide, and the birds had gone silent – had another moblin appeared? Those came sometimes… He'd have to go kill it, then…

And it was getting to be such a nice day, too. He sighed and stretched, adjusted his baldric, and then began to walk. But the birds hadn't gone silent for far.

A yellow-eyed fox padded silently in Link's footsteps.

The silence seemed to extend only as far as he stepped… it was, yes, a little strange, until he saw a flash of white and turned around to see a wedge-shaped face staring back, licking a paw daintily. Did it think it was a remlit?...

It didn't look like anything he'd seen in Faron's wood before, and it didn't seem afraid of him at all. It actually looked a bit like something he'd seen at a glance in Lanayru desert. Weird…

The little thing put its paw to the ground and barked at him, eyes focused on his sword. Its tail began to bristle, and its hackles rose. A long growl carried from its throat.

Link blinked and held his sword in front of him, widening his stance, and the little thing barked more furiously at him, tail lashing. Ahahah… nope. Link took a step back and sheathed his sword, preparing to run, when the little beast stopped. Its tail smoothed out again, and it returned to washing its face with a paw.

"Good afternoon, hero." It said in an even, male tone, eyes sliding up to his. Its pupils were narrow slits set in amber. It… was not a comforting thing to behold. It licked its foot again and drug it over an ear. "And how are you on this lovely day?"

"Uhm… er… fine?" Link wasn't sure how to handle talking monsters on the best of days, including this one. He wasn't sure this was even a monster, but if the birds went silent in its presence… well… "Who are you?"

"I am a god." The little thing told him, level. "I had come to visit Faron when I smelled you. I suppose you are a Hylian."

"Uh… yes?"

"Interesting." The beasty got up and stretched, then slowly plodded over to him. "You are Hylia's chosen Champion. That's… hm. I was expecting someone tanner."

"… I'll try to stand in the sun more?" The maybe-remlit thing was setting off something in his head like an alarm bell.

"What happened to the woman in the temple?" It asked. It felt like a punch to the gut to be reminded so sharply of her by this strange thing.

Link's fingers strayed to his baldric. "Why do you want to know?"

The beast huffed at him. "Touchy. Nothing good, then… I liked her. She would race me. That was nice." It paused and looked him over. "You wouldn't' be a very good partner for that." It sounded sad. Link made a face.

"Well excuse me."

"You're excused." It told him, blithe. "I mean, you can hardly help it, right? Living in the sky there's no point to run fast and hard and far… It sounds so boring. What did you do for fun?"

This thing had to be kidding. "Okay. Do you need something? Because otherwise I'm gonna…"

"Oh, yes. I needed to inquire after the state of the forest. I would ask Faron, but she becomes incensed rather easily. What is the smell of blood sunken into the soil for?"

"… Where exactly have you been for the last few months…?"

"In a land very far from here, I'm afraid." The beast chuckled, a wide, sharp grin stretching on its black lips, curled back for gleaming white teeth. "About… oh… across a desert and then over a sea… it was a very long walk, so won't you please humor me?"

Link frowned. "… Sure. There was a monster infestation. Lady Faron… requested that I deal with it, and, sometimes, I got cut."

"Oh. So this is your blood and theirs." The thing cocked its head when he nodded. "Interesting. And Hylia? I suppose she's faring well with her return to her lovely land?" The thing stood and stretched. Link bit his lip and nodded. "Oh, good. I'm sure the others have missed her."

"You're kind of tiny for a god." And… not very godly-looking…

"Hm. You're kind of naïve, for a hero. Ah well… I suppose it's to be expected when you've never seen one of us from that pretty little perch she built for her canaries in the heavens. Personally, I've never been fond of flight." It walked in a circle, its tail waving like cloth in the wind.

"I thought all the gods down here were dragons." Or Zelda.

The little brazen thing barked with laughter. "Hardly." It flicked its ears at Link when he made a face at it. "Don't believe me? Most of us take the forms of beasts, actually. Death comes as a bird, war, a vulture… lovely wisdom as an owl… Spite and I tend to roam the world as foxes. Demise and Hylia were rather odd, keeping those bodies all the time. The dragon and the swan. Tell me, does she still have the wings?"

"… No?" This thing had to be shitting him. Had to be.

"Now, mind you, we're not bound to these like the dragon gods are to their forms. We just… rather prefer them? I mean, really, you hylians are so… fragile. I've heard that war has been taking the form of a sheikah, recently, but that's just a rumor… ah."

"What?"

The bushes rustled. The fox smiled. "It seems I've been found."

And not a moment after saying it, a strange man dressed in black came out of the bushes. "Kaeko! Is this where you've been?" He demanded with eyes wide as they took in Link. His hand strayed to a dagger on his belt immediately, and Link wasn't stupid, so he moved his to his sword. The stranger was pale like a hylian, but that was where the resemblances began and ended.

He went to scoop up the supposed god, who turned away from Link at least, breaking the spell that had kept him from leaving… though he'd hardly realized it until _now_. Gods…

"Yes, I have. Don't lecture your elders, Light, you sound impudent." The beast swatted him. Light scowled back. "This is Link, by the way."

Link shuddered at the sound of his named in that foreign voice.

"I don't think you and he should kill him," Kaeko continued, "He actually seems rather protective of her memory. Why, he looked as though he might cut me when I asked her fate."

Light, who had been eyeing Link up until now, had a venomous look bloom across his face.

Link glared. "You know my name and tell me you're a god but no name and you expect me to hand out information?"

"Well, it would be the polite thing to do." Kaeko said in an infuriatingly reasonable tone, canting his head. "And I know, you know... so why don't you just tell us, hm?"

"Tell you what? There's no reason for me to tell you anything."

"He's right, Kaeko." The man interjected. "After all, we can just kill him and... ask his mistress."

"I suppose so." Kaeko laid his head on Light's arm. "But that would be sad. He seems like fun."

"It doesn't matter what it seems like, we could do it." Light hissed, fervent. "Just a word across the forest. I mean, he's already right where we need him to be-"

Link hopped out of place and drew his blade. Not the mastersword, but it would do. Light barked with laughter. "Not you, fool. My... other half, we'll call him."

"What?" Link hissed, looking around. Light giggled.

"He's not here. He's in the temple... of your goddess, I mean. Hm? Should I have specified that?" He called. Link was already running.

_Zelda_!

* * *

Listening to the song strummed by bleeding fingers, he felt like a voyeur. His skin was smudged with the earth of the temple. His cheek felt cold where it pressed to grass grown over stone. His heartbeat slowed in his chest until he was almost sure he would become one with where she had laid. He didn't want to be here alone…

He didn't want to be aimless and empty.

The trip back from the ruined city had not been kind to him. His stomach and his arm still ached, even after he'd consumed dear ambrosia to heal the worst of him. The desert had burnt him. The ocean had battered him with rain and cold and reminded him of the broadness of the world and how very _alone _he was in it, and the painful ripping-shredding-numbness of it almost had him throw himself over the sides with the pain. Ice could dull any pain, couldn't it?

He didn't even have her cloak to cling to… because their parents deserved something, anything, but what did that leave for him? There was nothing left for him to grieve… nothing, nothing, nothing. He couldn't stay in that city. He couldn't stay where he was reminded more strongly than anywhere of how he didn't belong. He should have been happy, after so many years watching her waste away. He should have been-

He shouldn't have been here. The tears wouldn't come and let him cry; his body wouldn't work so that he could get up and leave. Not even when the goddess's lyre stopped and she walked in and found him lying there.

"You're bleeding!"

Yes… what of it? "Don't touch me." He forced himself up at last and leveled a stare on Hylia's human guise. She stepped back from him and stared, uncertain.

"You…"

"Me." He was so tired…

"You're a sheikah."

"No." The man rested his head in his hands. "I am a thief."

* * *

The peace of the temple didn't last for more than an hour before there was the sound of boots pounding stone – _that _certainly got the nameless man up – and then the doors _whooshing _open by… oh, about three feet each. Zelda stifled a sigh. No, Link, you cannot slam the doors open. They are very heavy stone…

"Zelda!" And her childhood friend came charging in, arms at the ready. Zelda blinked. "Um…?"

The man sitting on the floor behind her with a jar of water rubbed his eyes and gave Link a bleary look. He'd actually been napping before the hero had come charging along.

The hero stared back. He opened his mouth, shut it, stared some more, all while his sword began to lower of its own accord. "Um…"

"… Hi, Link. How are the kikwi?"

"… fat and huggable…"

Link shifted. "Uh… Zelda… do you think I could maybe… talk with you outside?"

"Of course. You'll be fine…?" She turned her gaze on the man.

"Yes, thank you." He rasped, reaching up to rub his throat. "Thank you for your hospitality, but I think I'll be leaving in a moment. So don't mind me…" He staggered to his feet and nearly fell over again, then hissed in irritation. Zelda bit her lip.

"Are you injured? We won't turn you out-"

"You're not, I'm leaving. There's a difference." He rose a bit more slowly. "I have to take care of some things. But… thank you for your time." He gave her a shaky nod.

Zelda didn't look very happy about it. "Don't move." She had the 'or I cut you' tone and glare, and it apparently shocked the man right into obedience, judging by the wide-eyes and frozen stance.

The ornery goddess stepped down from Impa's dais (it would always be Impa's… yes) and raided the boxes they'd carefully shipped down from Skyloft (read: had that annoying robot transport for them. Oh, what a joy THAT was without Fi's aid…)

After a moment of rifling she had a potion red as blood in her hands, and she marched back over to hand it to their guest. "If you're injured, you should have a potion."

"…. But I'm not injured…" Wrong answer. Link backed away slowly, and not a moment too soon – Zelda's dainty little hand shot out and _jabbed _at the poor guy's torso right through his cloak. He yelped and nearly tripped over himself trying to escape.

"Alright! I'll drink it, just _don't do that!"_

"If someone tries to help you you don't fight with them about it!"

"I'll fight with whoever I want!"

"_Excuse me?!"_

Standing by the door, Link found himself twiddling his thumbs and wondering why, exactly, he'd come crashing through the forest like the temple was on fire to check on Zelda. It was Zelda.

She could handle herself and often did, to terrifying effect.

(He still wasn't sure how she'd climbed Death Mountain in that dress… or, oh, Lanayru desert without clawshots… probably Impa had helped. She _could _jump pretty far.)

Actually this guy fighting with Zelda looked a lot like Impa did when she was yelling at Link. Huh. If this was a servile attitude though, he needed some work.

"- cannot believe that she devoted her life to _you!_ You don't even _look _godlike!"

"And what is _that _supposed to mean?!"

"It means _you're short!_ I've met taller _wind mages!"_

Ahahahhaah. Yeaaah, it needed some work. Yeah.

That was a nice way of putting it. Link smiled to one in particular, aiming to placate, when they stomped away from each other. The stranger didn't look at him as he stalked past, eyes narrowed in rage and his cloak billowing behind him.

Zelda didn't sound too happy herself from inside of the chamber of the mastersword. "So RUDE!"

Link shook his head and went to talk with her. Well, crisis probably averted, even if that weird guy looked like a color-swap of the man in the forest… it was actually a lot like Owlan compared to Horwell. Weird, that, and he told Zelda so.

She paused in her ranting to look at him funny. "There was someone else like him?"

"Yeah… in the woods. He said someone was here to hurt you… so I came running back, but…" Link shrugged. "I came back to that? He didn't do anything, did he…?"

"Oh… no." Zelda's face paled just a moment before a mortified expression took it. "No! I walked in on him… I… I think he was grieving."

"Grieving?..."

"Impa…"

* * *

There was one other thing that Link had to tell Zelda, once they had cleaned the temple and given prayers to Impa. And that was… well.

"There was something else in the woods. It called itself a fox, and it was asking about you." Link admitted carefully, turning their dinner on its spit. Zelda lifted her head and blinked at him.

"A fox…?"

"It was white and it looked kind of like a remlit, but with a bigger tail and smaller ears. Oh… and its face was a wedge shape."

"That's really weird, Link."

"And it could talk."

"… really weird, Link."

"Imagine how I felt having a conversation with it. It kept asking about Hylia."

Zelda made a face. She no more enjoyed being called Hylia than he enjoyed hearing her called it, he thought. "I've never talked to a fox. Or seen one, for that matter."

Link shrugged. The little monster had probably been lying; that didn't surprise him.

"Today was really weird. I mean… I didn't even know Impa left someone behind… are there more Sheikah?"

"… She told me there were, but that they lived very far away." Zelda sighed and shook her head. "I wonder how we could pass on that she's died… I mean…" She looked down at her hands, clasped tight until the knuckles turned white. Link ducked his head to hide his own tears.

It hadn't been a week. Wounds were fresh. "Do you think she had family?"

"She said they had died because of Demise…" Zelda's shoulders shook. "But I don't know, Link. I don't think Impa always told me everything."

"Just what you needed to know, right…?"

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I mean… we were on the same loftwing with that one." Link sighed and rubbed his neck.

They sat in silence for a long time. Eventually the food was finished, with a crisp skin and the smell of herbs and smoke filling the clearing. Link took it off the fire and started cutting it up. Zelda got some stale bread for them to hold it on. "… We should have a funeral. For Impa." She announced to no one n particular. Link peered at her around a mouthful of cuckoo.

"Butf therfe's no phbody fu phfall."

"Ew… chew your food and swallow first."

Link made a face at her and kept eating. "But there's no body to fall."

"We could still hold a funeral. I mean… she kind of did fall… in the temple…"

The image made their hearts ache anew. Without thought, they reached for each other's hands and clung, staring at the earth.

"I miss her." Zelda mumbled. Link shook his head. If he'd just been quicker… or stronger…

Maybe Impa wouldn't have had to stand guard for so long… maybe she wouldn't have died…

Not like that.

"I do, too." He mumbled, soft and quiet and empty. What was the point of Demise being gone if their friend went with him?... what kind of world were they protecting?

"Everyone else will be okay." That was how Zelda consoled herself before. But now she was wondering who was left hurting besides them. Who had Demise hurt besides them?

Who else couldn't they save?

* * *

With the morning sun came a new wave of energy. Birdsong and life filled the air, and the sky was clear – clear enough to see Skyloft, far above them, on their walk through the forest.

"It's kind of weird, isn't it? Those clouds were always there before…"

The sky was hid from sight again for just a moment as they passed under a low tree, Zelda reaching up to touch its blossoms.

Link shrugged. He hadn't exactly been focusing on the sky for most of his journey. "I was a little busy looking for you to tell."

"I mean before that, you dork. In Skyloft… we never saw anything below the clouds.

"That's probably because the clouds never left." Giggled a new voice. They stopped walking immediately, and a grinning redhead peeled off of a tree and stepped into sight, snakelike in their fluidity. Their face was painted with bright designs, almost-heart shapes. Something about it was intimately threatening, like the diamond-patterned vipers from Lanayru, colorful and venomous. "It wasn't always like that, mind you. A little over… oh, an eon ago, the sky was perfectly clear… unless it wasn't. Those thick hiding clouds though… the sky-snake made those for _you."_

"Who are you?" Zelda asked, hand straying for her belt. Redheads either meant Demise, or Groose, and she might like Groose fine now but that was still a fifty percent chance of hellfire and lunacy.

"Me? I'm a god, of course."

"Not this again." Link mumbled.

"Quiet hero." The redhead jabbed a pointy finger in his direction. Those were some seriously long nails. "Now, this isn't technically my world, but I came to visit my brothers, you know?... it seems you've killed one of them." They added in a mutter.  
Link made an affronted face, and Zelda threw her hands up. "I'm sorry?" She offered.

Link would sincerely like to know if they were talking to a man or a woman. They wore a baggy robe over their top, and apron and skirt on their bottom, and their voice… kept… changing.

Overall it was a very frustrating experience.

"Oh, it's fine by me, actually! As far as I'm concerned, there can only be _one _apocalypse bringer, and your intervention has saved me the fortunate trouble of fratricide~"

The bushes rustled. Déjà vu hit Link like a brick.

His unfortunate prediction was only partially averted. A pale man stepped out, but he was hardly the same as yesterday's.

Also, he was holding a bright yellow _thing _in his arms.

"You know, I feel like a blood traitor saying it, but it's kind of nice here without all the humans tromping around making noise…." He trailed off in his comment when he spotted who the redhead was talking to. He had blue hair and bright red eyes, and he kind of looked like a startled rabbit right at that moment. "… Hello, Link. So… that's Zelda, huh?"

"Who are you and where were all these people when we were running around two months ago."

"Hiding probably. Demise wasn't very fond of humanoids, or so I gathered. You don't know me, but I'm Kafei. It's nice to meet you."

The yellow thing in his arms twisted to bark at them. He had a mask that resembled it tied to his head. "Oh! And this is Keaton." Kafei offered the bundle of fur to Zelda, who stared at him but took it. It pawed her face and continued barking. It had three black-tipped, wriggling tails, and Link realized that this thing was a fox too… though probably some other kind than the day before's.

"Anyway." Kafei cleared his throat. "I'm glad to see you're both alright."

"But you've never met us." Zelda told him reasonably. Kafei shrugged.

"Doesn't mean I'm not glad. Listen, I might be able to help you out later, but right now I've gotta catch the third member of my… party. If you'd like, I can come to the temple and explain things?"

"Why do you think we're staying at the temple?" Link asked, lips pursed.

"Because the mastersword is there." Kafei reached over and flicked him. "You're cockier than the one I knew. He knew how to keep his mouth shut, even at ten. Aaaanyway… Majora, seriously, we should get Kishin. I think he's having tea with the water dragon."

"NO!" The redhead squalled, and darted off in the direction of Faron's court. The maybe-sheikah smiled, wry, and strolled after him.

"Farwell."

"Wait! What are you going to explain, exactly?" Zelda shouted after him. The man named laughed.

"Everything!"

* * *

The weird fox thing called Keaton could talk. Apparently a large amount of fox could.

This one preferred giving questions to answering them, unfortunately.

How the heck were they supposed to remember whether Gorko wore underwear or what color Ghirahim's earring was? (Cyan. It was cyan. His belt brooch was red.) Link flopped on the ground and left it up to Zelda. He was done.

She responded to this by prodding him in the leg, but they got a lot more questions right when Link was out of the game.

The noise from Keaton's paws clapping filled the temple for the third time in five minutes. "Very good! For your knowledge, human, I shall reward you one question! What is it you would like to know?"

Link sat up and stared at Zelda. She frowned and put her hand to her chin. "Well… what should we ask him about?"

Link frowned. Gods, other humans, Demise, Skyloft…

"What about our home? Skyloft was made to protect the Hylians from Demise… but…"

Zelda's eyes widened. She turned on the fox quick enough that Link knew she feared what he feared, now. "Is Skyloft safe in the sky? My dad, our friends?"

The Keaton peered at her, smiling face unchanging. "The islands floated, once, on the power of the goddess. But after her sleep, that power was freely given by her guardians. Levias was injured by the Blade called Ghirahim, but he will continue to hold the islands until he cannot."

"Until he cannot…?"

"Don't parrot, my dears, it makes you sound daft." Keaton's tails flicked as one. "Yes, Levias will continue to carry the islands, but it will take more power as he grows weak. In a few short years, your islands will fall, if he cannot lay them down to rest. And Levias will fall with them."

Keaton laughed and covered his muzzle with a paw. "Now I will take my leave, I think! If you little ones find yourselves in need of my wisdom, you should seek out circles of grasses who dance. Farewell!"

And he disappeared with a _pop, _leaving Zelda and Link looking on in deep horror.

* * *

When Kafei arrived that evening, it was to a flurry of movement and packing. "Hm. I see something happened besides Kishin playing ball with octoroks."

"Skyloft is going to fall and you're chatting about octoroks?!"

"Skyloft? What?!" Kafei caught Link on one of his runs by. "Alright, breathe and explain what's going on."

Link spat out a jumbled mess. Kafei frowned at him like Zelda used to frown at Groose, and something about that made Link reword it to make sense.

"Alright. First off, calm down. You didn't panic fighting Demise so you shouldn't panic now, right?"

Right… Link nodded.

"Alright. Have you ever evacuated a city before?"

"… No."

"Then I'll see what I can do to help. Before I came to… this point in my life, I lived in a big city called Clocktown. My father was the mayor. Now. You have time to plan this. Do you have enough resources?"

"… No."

"Start gathering them. Make lists. I don't suppose you have any sheikah running around here."

"Imp…" Zelda paused and bit her tongue, then looked away. "No," she said, quiet, "We don't."

Kafei gained a sad look. "I see. Well… they would be far better helpers than me. Look… I have a limited time here, but I don't want to leave you two to do this by yourself.

"Why are you helping us?" Link eyed him – curious, but not mistrustful. Still, it was sad he had to ask, so Kafei sighed.

"Uh… perhaps because I'm not a terrible person? In any case… If you two can prepare this place for one thousand people, I can find you help."

"One thousand…?"

"I'm going to find some sheikah." And obviously… he planned to find a lot. Kafei smiled at them. "Deal?"

It was hardly leonine… but even if it was they hardly had a choice. What could two kids do to save a city when they couldn't even save their friend?

"Deal." The three of them shook on it before Kafei disappeared.

Outside, one who glowed in the dark narrowed his eyes. It seemed he had heard everything…

* * *

TBC


	3. The Blade That Stole Heaven

**Chapter 3: The Blade That Stole Heaven**

* * *

When they were young,

"Sister, sister! Look at these!"

"Yes, I see. Those are very ripe, aren't they?"

"They're pretty.~"

"Yes, they are."

And when they weren't quite so,

"Sister, you must eat…"

"I must fulfill my duty."

And when he had given up hope,

"Please, please, eat…"

"You know it will hardly help me now, Talib."

"_Impa…"_

And the tears flowed freely as he remembered it all again.

* * *

"Where are we going to get supplies for so many people?" Zelda moaned to herself the next morning.

Link had no idea, and they sat asking each other and thinking and vetoing and agonizing for three hours after dawn, until Groose walked up and loudly asked why they were making those faces and _scared _the _shit _out of them.

His reaction to the news was… about as well as to be expected.

"_**WHAT?!**__"_

(Across the woods, a certain injured traitor nearly fell out of the tree he'd been sleeping in from the sudden noise. His shadow caster laughed at him because he was objectively terrible in every way.)

"Skyloft? But- but- _it's our home! What can we do!?"_ He wailed, unfortunately unveiling every thought they'd tried to keep calm about throughout the night until then in order… "_What about the loftwings? WHAT ABOUT THE LUMPY PUMPKIN!?"_

… Okay, they hadn't actually thought of that one. But it was… fairly valid.

Nnn. "I have an idea." Link said, and got his sword before running off into the woods. Zelda and Groose stared after him in confusion, and they called, but he refused to come back or be followed.

That little fox had told them what was coming, so he should be able to tell them how to help it…

* * *

Catching a Keaton turned out to be something of a production.

First, Link had to find 'grasses that danced'… which the woods just weren't very willing to pony up. Second, he then had to cut those grasses down, or at least that's what his instincts demanded.

It took a lot of wandering and whacks with deku-nuts… and run-ins with exploding stickers…. Before he'd found some kind of success.

* * *

A few more days of crying beside Light – _she's gone, she's completely gone now _– and the ache had subsided enough, almost secretly, that he could begin to see ahead of himself again. Demise was vanquished, Ghirahim was gone. Demise was sealed and Ghirahim gone.

Impa was dead. The goddess and her champion had come home.

… what was he to do with himself?

He hardly knew, and neither did Light, but they clutched at each other like children and cried more and it was then that he thought, _we should at least touch base with the others. _After Sheik had gone to the ruined City to bring news of Impa's death, assuredly their longtime comrades deserved some acknowledging.

They hadn't seen them since Demise's first sealing, but with Ghirahim gone… well, they could go. And at least it gave them some sense of purpose, to be doing _something_.

As the sun was falling into the mountains that evening, Sheik and Light set out for the Doomed Court.

* * *

When Link returned to the temple, it was with news from the fox.

Today the infuriating little Keaton had wanted to know the color of switches inside temples, the number of dragon gods, and what Groose used to style his nice hair with. Link sighed and, somehow, answered its questions…

("How should I know? I bet you don't even know!")

And could finally ask Keaton one of his. "What can we do?"

And the little fox, well, it had an interesting answer… "A sheikah lies in these woods, masterless. Seek him out and enlist him to your cause."

So Link trusted the word of the foxy prophet, and went to seek out a sheikah anew. The only problem being… well. How _did _one find a sheikah?

After all… even super-persistent Ghirahim had trouble.

"Well… we could always look for him?" Groose suggested. Link sighed and nodded, slanting a glance at the dying-red sunset light leaking in the temple doors.

"Just… not now." Zelda added, waving them over for supper. Her eyes were red, and Link had heard her stifle a sob at _sheikah. _He could relate but… he felt strange crying. He barely knew Impa. So why had it hurt…?

Why did it hurt so much?

He went and sat by the fire, curled his head down between his knees, and bit back tears. Zelda and Groose pretended to see nothing. What would they say, when they did it every evening…?

Dinner tasted good, but he couldn't quite bring himself to appreciate it. Once his stomach was full, he helped put out the fire, then unrolled his bedroll and laid down to sleep.

Dreamless waves of blackness awaited.

* * *

The next day, he and Groose went out into the woods to start looking for supplies.

"Hey, I was thinking…"

Call the press. Link ducked under a low-hanging branch to get at some heart fruits.

"We have to ask the dragon to put Skyloft down but… does he just drop it? Or can he put it anywhere?"

… hm. Link looked up and gave Groose his full attention.

Reassured, Groose lifted a hand and continued his ramble. "Who's to say we can't put it somewhere around here, right? Like the goddess statue you dropped in the courtyard… and if the islands came from here, once, anyway…"

Link paused. There were great fissures in Faron's north woods. Could those be...?

"We need to talk to Levias. Help me get these plants, okay?"

"Sure. We should get some of the fruits in the trees, too."

"Those taste terrible…"

"But they're like pumpkins and they're big, right?" Groose nodded to himself. Link sighed.

"Do we have room in the basket for that?"

"No. We'll get some on a return trip. Hey, have you gone looking for the sheikah person yet?"

"I really don't know where to start, Groose." He put another heart fruit in the basket.

Groose made a face but, sadly, he'd met his idea quota for the morning. "We should get these back right? … it's getting really cold here. I wonder if it can snow."

Link nodded. "It'd be pretty to see." He thought aloud, then grimaced. Snow was pretty. But if it fell heavy, food would be much harder to find… and they'd be even further up a creek…

"Damnit." He grumbled, and went back to rifling for heart fruits in the leaves.

* * *

It ended up being almost a week until they had enough food to even consider looking for that sheikah, and when they did it was with no luck. The guy just… wasn't here. No fires, no footprints, no ashes. Not a trace he even existed.

Privately, Groose was starting to wonder if he existed at all and if the little fox was screwing with them. Then not so privately. _"I mean, what is a fox, even?"_

And Link could hardly blame him for that. He wasn't even sure that Keaton had meant a man, just suspected it since… well. That man in the temple when he'd returned… he was a sheikah. So it figured it would be him, right?

He was laying in his bedroll that night when he heard… _something, _a very soft _something_ within the darkness of the night and temple. It was separate from Groose's snores or Zelda's sleepy mumbling, and it was far from him, and he found himself watching the ceiling. Something moved across the ceiling, and he stumbled for a candle with one hand and his blade with the other.

When he found one and lit it, all he saw was a cloak, fluttering in the rafters, alone. It looked like it had been hanging there for some time now, and he'd only noticed it because he heard its soft flutters when he couldn't quite fall to dreams…

His heart pounded in his ears. _Is this why we can't find him?_

_He's been inside all this time?_

He leapt to his feet and searched the temple, ignoring Zelda and Groose's cries of alarm. But try as he might, all he found was that cloak. The sheikah himself, if he had been there at all that night, was gone.

* * *

Long ago, the country was peaceful as a grave. True, monsters roamed free, but what could they do without hylians to torment? They lived, as they should, as peacefully as they could manage in the woods. The foxes barked and howled. The wolves and wolfos fought for territory, and the only place left with humans akin to the hylians who'd left the world was tucked away, across a desert and a sea, and sealed up in four great walls of stone and metal. It was a peaceful, industrious city, with great minds and beautiful art and a powerful devotion to their absent goddess, awaiting her return. This was the Great City of the sheikah, and this was where the seeds of the Thief's tale were planted. It was a happy life, one that would all too soon be torn asunder in the waves of a storm.

To say that the kingdom of sheikah and their perfect little world went below Demise's radar would be a filthy lie. Oh, Lord Demise was more than aware of their happy little bubble in the maelstrom of his destruction. He was more than aware of their dedication to his enemy, and their purpose to her plans.

And of course, he was more vicious than any when it came to checking unguarded pawns.

On a night where the islands above, and the perfect little moon, were blotted by stars, the feral Prince and his kingdom marched.

Inside of Hylia's perfect little world at long last, Demise followed the doctrines of War religiously. After all… why stab at the limb when you can cut it off at its root? With this attack, he would destroy the right hand of the goddess.

This would cripple his opponent's efforts once she returned… and it would hurt her spirit, perhaps more amusingly, the death of her angelic little guardsmen.

There was a child in the throne room. He had eyes full of hatred and fire.

Well, well… he wasn't aware that the royals had had any CHILDREN. Oh dear… well. He was a gentleman – he wasn't here for the boy. It was hardly kind to leave him here… alone though, wasn't it.

He was whispering something with fervent eyes locked on Demise.

"…_.. black tide."_

The world was overcome with darkness.

* * *

When Demise had come about again, it was to a sharp, obnoxious clicking sound, something poking his leg in about the same vicinity, and the soft mumbles of a child trying not to break down sobbing. What he looked down to find was more than laughable – the child mage who'd cast arcane magic on him was trying to stab him in the leg with a priest's dagger. Him, the great Demise!

The dagger was scratching up his scales and missing anything vital, though it could be… unpleasant, if the child knew what he was doing with that knife. Thankfully, he did not – he _was_ a child. Even the Sheikah weren't so savage as to teach children the arts of War – Demise would make them regret that. He laughed, low and deep, and reached down to pluck up the boy by his scruff.

The little thing mewled and flailed, clawing at the hand big enough to encase his whole body and crush it, if Demise so chose. He was dressed head to toe in gold. Bangles and earrings, a torq and other fine jewelry. He even had beads in his hair.

How… Pretty. A little prince, as he'd thought. The king and queen had left a son behind them. He was hardly of the mind to murder a child, though, so he'd have to find some use for it. The sound of claws clicking stone told him his little pet was returning.

Demise was hardly alone in his war on Hylia, though he was probably the only one motivated by entertainment rather than necessity. Many monsters and beasts, even the great dragons of lore (sans the accursed dragon gods who stood with her), held firm behind his legend. Why?

Because they upset Hylia's perfect world. They were branded evil and turned out to perish by her tiny, perfect hylians, and her tiny, perfect guards.

Demise would hardly turn away strong help. This was just a game to him and if he got the best pawns then so be it. He didn't care about their injustices… but he also didn't care what they were, so perhaps that was why they swore their loyalty.

The dragons in particular, he did rather favor, though. You could even call him their… patron deity, if he were to patronize any race, or claim to have created anything. And these, well, perhaps he could – after all, dragons were elegantly designed machines… weapons of death and war. They were also quite pleasing to the eye, with skin like obsidian glass and claws that could gut a deer with a flick. Their latest emissary had been a prostitute before coming to work in his fortress.

She had come along on this little excursion, as it were. Dragons were rather catlike. They would hunt for fun and profit, and they did so well. Fasalina, this time, had ever so kindly brought him a little mouse in her jaws, still mewling and squirming, crying for its mother.

Well. It seemed the royals had left two orphans behind.

Or rather, in the wake of the Sheikah capital burning, two more soldiers had been found.

* * *

Sheik dreamed of strange things the night of their return from the court. Light had stayed behind to offer some help to an injured comrade in the Court, but something in the forest called and Sheik had responded with a flight-like return to its haven.

The world was soft and humming in the twilight. He laid down to rest in the bough of a tree, and fell into a deep sleep…

Inside the world of dreams, he saw wondrous sights. Castles on the horizon, dragons fluttering through the sky freely. Rusalka singing their songs beside Zora and sirens who swept down from above as though they were truly harpies. The beautiful, elegant blade that his sister had guarded along with the goddess shining in the sunlight, when it all began to rot away.

The sunlight died. The sirens and rusalka morphed into ugly, jealous things, and the zora were left bleeding on the shore. Demise's booming laugh eclipsed everything as he choked out the goddess, Impa, everyone…

The hero stood against him and perished.

Light stood against him and perished.

Sheik stood alone in the forest and watched the world turn into nothing.

* * *

When Link awoke, it was hardly peaceably. Zelda's sharp scream dragged him out his nest with sword in hand.

"_You! What are you doing? Get away from there!"_

Mastersword. There was someone touching it- Link leaped up the dais and swung his makeshift blade to chase the intruder back, hissing.

It was the man from before, and he looked… frantic. "No, you must- let me see it-"

Link grabbed the blade and pulled it from the earth. Light filled the temple from its place in the stone, and the, darkness-

The sheikah let out an agonized wail, long and loud and full of sorrow – enough to make their bones crawl beneath the flesh.

The sense of evil passed Link's mind again, like whispers in the night from a monster.

_One heartbeat, two heartbeats, three heartbeats-_

The blackness condensed again, let _light _bloom in the temple except for one perfect spot of solid black, solemn as a funeral shroud. A shade of himself standing before Link, touching the sword the same as he'd been. The sheikah let out another garbled sob. Blue eyes met red.

**TBC**


	4. Necessities of Living

**Chapter 4: Necessities of living**

The world was cold.

_What is "cold"?_

_Why shouldn't I be "cold"?_

_Because destruction… is a flame… Isn't it?_

_Because courage… is a flame…_

Isn't it?

* * *

The puppet of shadow looked around at its rapt audience, with eyes red as fire, and trembled. Its lips opened but it did not speak, and it did not scream. It fell to its knees and had a sword pointed to its throat.

It looked up into the face of Destruction-Salvation-Goodness silently. The blue-eyed maybe-mirror, maybe-foe.

The shadow was a doll. It did not fight. It did not cringe from the crash of metal, blur of white cloth and tan skin, or the flash of a deku nut, and it did not move or resist when the sheikah shoved it back to shield it. It stumbled, fell, and then lay there. Limp, unresisting.

The sheikah faced the Destruction-Salvation-Goodness.

_What is a 'sheikah'?_

The shadow lay still on the floor, confused about this cold world it was torn into, and the maelstrom inside its head. Reality wasn't a concept that it possessed, yet, and the events around it seemed far away for the war inside its mind. Raging, screaming, bloody hatred. The urge to rend and bite and crush.

Heat like a furnace. Protectiveness. Love. Humanity.

_What is that? Why do I have that? Do I need it it hurts can I cut it out and throw it away-?_

Something _warm _touched its face, and it looked up into painful light.

"Hello, little one." The light that stung its eyes whispered. "Welcome to existence."

The shadow did not know what this was. It reached up into the light and was burned, and its cry of pain made the shouting others snap to silence. It curled up and cried, and the sheikah disengaged the hero to gather it up. The sheikah had warm arms and a warm chest, and some tendril of possessiveness, of fear, wound its way into the shadow's mind while it clung to the sheikah. _This is mine._ The Light looked around and laughed, and said _something-_

_What is 'farewell'? Why are they snarling? What is this? Pain? What's pain? Death? Inexistence-_

And they disappeared into nothing, meaningless white.

* * *

"You're back." Her tone told him more than her words. _So soon?_

That hurt a bit… Sheik tried not to look her in the face. "Yes… it's fine, right?" It was his own fault, but… how could he leave Impa before all this? He would never…

This was not Impa. This was someone important though, someone who cared about him. And she didn't look so well herself. Something was wrong, an ugly festering illness he'd seek and cut out… "Of course-" She smiled, broad and affectionate, and settled her hand in his hair, "Come." That hand trailed down to clasp his shoulder, and the dragoness led him deeper into the court. The walls, once tall obsidian polished to a mirror's finished, were fogged and crumbling. Vines crawled in from holes in the roof and grass grew between the tiles of what were grand floors an eon ago.

The shade they'd stolen from the temple stayed huddled close to him, and often stumbled as it stepped.

The dragons looked up from their perches to watch them pass. They looked tired, some with injuries, and most with defined ribs… things had not been going well for them, then. That sense of unease, of _wrongness _that festered in Sheik's belly only grew, when he saw each of them. There were bloodstains on the floor, and where he could still see a reflection, there seemed to be a melancholy air. Something had carved suffering into this place like a physical wound… a poison that seeped into everything here.

The beauty mattered not. This was a haunted place, hurt and full of the mournful faces of those who'd come before, crying for the fate of any who'd step after. Even through the holes of the palace roof, the sun refused to shine here. The overcast sky perpetually blotted it out… even the day wanted nothing of this place. And so the scraps were left for night, as ever. The remnants of a tyrant's domain… ah, but who was the real tyrant? Demise was dead, and yet they were still suffering. It was hardly his actions that led them to this place, so much as what he hadn't done…

_Turned away. Being turned away is probably the worst feeling. _Even Sheik could understand that. Especially Sheik…

He bit down a sigh as they passed the empty throne room. As happy as he was to be free… with Hylia around, he'd probably be free from the mortal coil, too, soon. Her champion would come for him and someone would have to die. Light twitched at his side and reached a hand out to catch his, twining their fingers.

_You are not allowed to die._

_Impa is gone. Would joining her really be…_

_Yes! We still… I'm not ready to die. Talib…_

_I'm sorry._

If their beloved host knew of the silent exchange, she said nothing. The little shade was too focused on his feet to see the intense stares of sheikah and shadow caster. They went to a room that was still mostly intact, with cushions in a corner that was only a _bit_ dusty. Light knocked them a few good times against each other to clear the worst of it, and sent Sheik into a fit of coughs. "… oh. Sorry."

Sheik, who'd collapsed in a pile of pathetic wheezing, didn't answer. The shade knelt with him, making soft, scared noises – little shushes and clicks. He sounded like a scared dragonling. Weird. Sheik wondered if hylian children did that, then.

Light looked at them and then at the woman. She was still smiling, though her face was growing gaunt. "… why don't we go see about catching a deer?"

"Not right now, little one. Rest with your brother." She corrected him, then sat beside Sheik herself. She turned her face on the shade – he noticed then that her scales were growing dull, and had a bit of guilt run through him. She needed help. They all needed help and without Demise, they had nothing. Power was great directed, but when it was outnumbered… well.

She didn't look bothered at all. She never did. "And who is this?"

The shade cringed from her and whimpered. Her face did not change.

Sheik ducked his head and sighed. Confession time… "He appeared from the hero touching the sword." The floor was cracked in this room too, splitting his reflection down the middle. He looked terrible, with tangled hair and smudged kohl. Like a kid who'd been crying, even… how fitting. His mind started to detach from the image, and he found himself wondering why the child on the other side of the floor looked so scared. "… I shouldn't have gone there, I know, but I had the worst feeling…" He shuddered when a warm hand rubbed his back, and took a breath, "And I went… something was screaming inside the sword. I think, maybe, it was the sword…" Had he been scared? … no. Not scared.

The kid in the floor. Yes… terrified. That was the name for that expression.

"Shhh. We can only act on what we know." She stroked his cheek with her other hand, breaking him from his staring contest with the child that could be him but he wasn't sure was. Sheik met her eyes and cocked his head, and she rubbed his cheek a moment. "And what happened then?" She asked. She was gentle, with a simpering expression neatly in place. He remembered thinking it was fake so long ago, the day he'd met her… that that smile was a mocking mask to hurt him. He'd been hurt very badly then… Light and he had been hurt in a way that couldn't be fixed. Still… that wasn't really her fault… was it?... yes. Some of it was. But she hadn't stopped the killing blow as surely as she hadn't struck it. And she'd saved them and taken care of them since, and Sheik didn't know if that was repayment or a crueler sin, and he didn't know if he should repay her or hate her, just that he would and he couldn't. Now her smile was a comfort. Now she was all that Light and he had left. Wasn't that strange?

She rubbed his cheek again and nodded to the shade. "And why did you grab him? Sheik?"

"… I didn't think about it. He just looked so scared." Like the little child on the floor. Like Light had looked when they'd come to Demise's palace as child. Like… "I couldn't leave him there." Sheik admitted with a cough. The beloved hostess hummed, little wings fluttering behind her. Her lips quirked in a strange, amused smile and her hands brushed his hair out of his face long enough for her to nip his nose. "Ow."

"And there's your answer." She laughed, "And what of the sword, dearling?"

Well… Sheik cocked his head, ears twitching. "… It stopped screaming."

"Good. Call if you need to." She said, as Light took his cue to sprawl on the pillows and prod at the shade. It squealed and swatted him.

Sheik stifled a laugh, laid down to join them. The dragoness left them to rest.

* * *

Back in the temple, others were less forgiving of their interrupted rest.

"What was THAT all about?" Groose demanded from his bedroll, hair mussed and with bags under his eyes. Zelda had a dagger out, teeth bared and bed hair so fantastic it defied gravity. She looked like Medusa hissing like that.

"Don't look at me like I know!" Link grumbled, sour, and waved the mastersword. "I woke up and he was THERE! TOUCHING FI'S SWORD."

"Who was there?!" Groose leapt to his feet and looked around with all the fury of a poked loftwing.

"The sheikah guy! Maybe!" Or something! How the hell was he supposed to know?!

"That's not an answer!"

"So loud…" Zelda mumbled of them both, looking the temple over before stepping out to avoid the shouting match. For friends, Groose and Link sure did fight a lot… (Not that she could talk considering how many times she'd forcibly removed Link from flat surfaces over the years. Cliffs optionally included.  
Try pointing that out to her, though. See what happened.)

There was no one outside, of course. Nothing to be seen but the statue of the goddess, towering over the temple and smiling benevolently. Zelda sat on the ground and gazed up at it with a sigh, head in her hands, ready to wax tired and melancholy under the moonlight. Her mind was clouded with thoughts of the past, and their uncertain future here…

Or that was how she looked, at least. In truth, she was sad, but the thoughts were hardly drowning her. She didn't have time for anything like that.

They clicked by, emotion dammed as a storm behind delicate doors… Their friend was dead. She said it so much to herself, trying to make it real. It hurt but so did the numbness… gods, why Impa? She hadn't deserved this… Zelda hadn't wanted this. Even goddesses don't get what they want? Or… was there some mistake saying it was her? It wouldn't shock her if it was. She'd probably mutter 'I knew it,' and be balefully accepting. Damn…

Her childhood friend and their nuisance-turned-comrade were fighting, some strange maybe-sheikah had run through the temple while they _slept in it, _and the sky was going to fall in a few years if they didn't do _something, _killing everyone involved, ruining their home and destroying yet another piece of the world, their world, the one that actually mattered to them. What good was infinity to explore when the one place they wanted to go they could never return to? It was enough to make her think that the goddess of fate was out to get them.

Even now, she thought that being inside was safer, so she made a point of being _out. _After all, a damsel sitting outside in the dark by herself – well – that was mouth-watering dream for any villain, right? It was even nighttime. If there was anyone here, they should hasten to snatch her up…

So if there was some maybe-sheikah stalling them and skulking around, and he saw her by herself… she might be able to get some answers out of him.

She'd gone to school with boys. She could handle herself fine.

The hours slid by like a viper in Lanayru's sands. But no one came out of the blackness of night, and all she heard was the bark of foxes in the distance until morning. It sounded like alarms screaming '_help'_…

* * *

The next day, it was Zelda's turn to hunt. Link wasn't feeling well, so Groose – after realizing that no, he wasn't being lazy, and no, he didn't want Link vomiting on him – talked Zelda into letting Link stay put in the temple. To guard it for the mystery guest, yes. Or something.

Link owed him big time later… yeah. Sad thing was, he was thinking that exact thing as he dry-retched out the back door and hoped no one stepped in it later. He really hoped he wouldn't get any in his hair. Actually, was vomiting on temple grounds sacrilege? Shit…

Today was shaping up to be miserable…

* * *

Today was not Sheik's impression of a good day in the works. The dragons were injured and starved, of course. Light was on edge… well, that was a given. Light was always on edge. And there was a small, infant-minded shade with them now that clung to Sheik's side like a scared kitten.

It was… oddly endearing, but that was beside the point.

He wondered what on earth they could do… for a start, helping Fasalina and the others seemed best, though. The wolfos were getting too bold, and soon they were going to start dealing some serious damage instead of just potshots. Which meant it was time for some population control… and seeing if he couldn't get the dragons to move, that wasn't a bad idea. There was no point in staying here, with…. With Demise and Ghirahim gone… this was what he was stumbled over to Fasalina to say, anyway.

"There. I said it. They're gone."

And he couldn't undo that.

Fasalina was ever smiling. "I know. I'll see what I can do."

That was as good as he would get. But for now- wolfos were hurting their comrades. Determination stoked, Sheik stood up and went to rouse his reflection. "Come on. We're going fur hunting."

Light looked up at him, and grinned.

* * *

Zelda came back to Link vomiting and the ugly sudden sense of guilt that she always, always got. Every time she didn't believe him about something being wrong and it ended up serious, this nasty plague ate at her like a physical ailment. _You'd think I'd learn, _she scolded herself every time, not without irony.

He didn't speak when she went to hold his hair and rub his back, but who would when they were shaking and coughing that violently…?

The trees and the forest howled with wind, and it hit the temple grounds like a spray of iced needles before they could brace themselves. "Ah!" It was… more like an avenging spirit than a herald of change. Yes, winter was most assuredly coming… it would not be a pleasant one. They needed furs and warmer shelter…

Link let out a pathetic sort of garble and collapsed on Zelda, flushed and fevered with his fingers twitching sporadically. His face was a mess, and his nose had begun to run form the wind… he passed out in her lap like that. It was heart-wrenchingly pathetic. The wind kept howling…

Zelda carried him inside the back door -_ bang -_ and tucked him in on a bedroll while his eyes roved the ceiling, dazed. She got her blanket to add over his, since he still shuddered and those howling winds were leaking into their sanctuary.

After a moment of thought, Zelda got Link by the shoulder and turned him on his side so he wouldn't choke on it if he vomited. She sat at his shoulder and stroked the sweat-matted hair on his forehead, and bit her lip to keep the tears back. It seemed as though nothing was destined to go their way on the surface…

* * *

"_Damnit!"_

Sheik had gone into this confident, but now he wasn't sure he was going to be able to leave in one piece. Or keep that arm. Damn. The wolfos leapt back and howled in triumph, darting side to side in the most obnoxious, distracting-

_Blood _on the snow a perfect red on perfect white.

Light's dagger in the brain of a monster. The wolfos who'd bit into his shoulder so savagely now lay on the floor, dead from an equally savage attack.

The sense that maybe, just maybe, they were outnumbered here, as they looked around at all the gleaming yellow eyes in the forest, started to read up in Sheik's mind. Yeah… just maybe.

But if they didn't make a dent, what could they do?...

"… I'm not ready to join Impa, either, Light." Sheik told him quietly, with the air of a confession, while his fingers dug bloody gouges on his right shoulder's wound. He was trying to stem the blood flow with the remnants of his top, but it kept coming and all it was doing was hurting him. He felt faint. The sky was spotted. Blood or maybe just the smell, he wasn't sure, filled his nose and made him choke.

"That's funny. I got the impression you were angry enough to." Light was stumbling, himself, leg torn and leaking something between blood and a rainbow on the earth. Well, a being made of light was just….

"No… I would like to see the temple again, first." Before they died.

"Oh?" The wolfos were creeping closer, eyes wide and maws snapping.

"Yes. And those rocks by the moon… I want to see those, too. I want to go there. Do you think we can go there?" His vision was blacking out. A wolfos leapt at him. A knife ended up in its throat but he wasn't sure whose or how. He hit the ground anyway when it struck him. Cutting something didn't guarantee a kill, and it didn't stop momentum.

"The sky?" Light let out a grunt of pain. Sheik couldn't see him… and could barely hear him over the waves, the pounding in his ears. He wasn't sure Light was speaking at all, since there was something like screaming on the edge of his senses. Maybe it was all in his head. "I don't think people like us can go there."

"Why not?" Maybe it was all in their heads.

_Howling._

"Thieves in heaven? We'd steal everything that wasn't nailed down." Like existence that _dripdripdripped _away at the edges of his vision with every breathe and every second spent laying here in the dirt while the wolves piled up and tore into him-

"… oh… alright."

_Blood. On his face, on his hands, in his head, screaming-_

The face of a shade that was waiting for them tucked away with the dragons, not-quite safe.

"It's not fair, is it? Sheik…"

"I can accept that." He hissed when another set of jaws tore into him, something _**cracked**_, and reality crashed in like a wave, like the time they'd gone swimming in the ocean and one had hit them over the heads and drew them under into the darkness and he had _seen _the hands of death and _felt _the nothingness and knew how to bring it down like a mudslide, and now was just like then, now his world was just a writhing mound of fur and heat with air a distant memory, with _painlessness _a foggy dream and he realized that there was really no way out of this that wasn't cruelty, the only way out was for them to know, for him to take them to that ocean and _show them_- _"Blacktide-" spat out in gasp, dying breath, bleeding, barking, screams of pain – show them. Show them what it means to Not Exist._

The field was smothered of life in a wave of darkness.

He was a thief. He was sorry for everything he stole, but that didn't mean he could take it back. Some things can't be replaced.

* * *

The palace is prettier in the moonlight, when the clouds clear because it is dark. The place seems melancholy, dreamy, without Demise's suffocating grasp and flame. The wounds of it are hidden in the shade of night, made mysterious, and the dragons seem to sleep peacefully inside the crumbling walls. There is one who stands in the light waiting for them. The beloved hostess, the leader of what remained of Demise's band of enforcers. "The hero returns alive." She greets them warmly, her wings perking on her back. Her ankles are crossed where she sits on a pedestal, at the feet of a statue of their late Lord. One leg of hers is bandaged with the stained remnants of clothing.

"… Fasalina…" His leg hurts. His belly pulls when he walks and, perhaps most fearfully, he cannot feel any pain at all from his arm. Not a twinge.

"Don't argue with me." She smiled from her perch and slid down, stepping over to stroke their faces. "How badly were you hurt?"

"…. My shoulder…" He didn't know if it would work again, at this rate…

"His pain is mine." Light muttered, fingers tracing the unbroken skin of his arm with unbecoming gingerness. His trousers were torn something terrible, and there were fresh-closed scars on his leg. If only Sheik could heal like Light did.

"We've enough supplies to take care of that. No potions, though… I'll see what we can scrounge up." She added, gesturing for them to follow her. "Your little one spoke a bit while you were gone. Asked why he was cold… We've put him in a parlor with a mantel. I don't suppose he has a name."

Sheik shrugged his good shoulder. Light snorted. "He's a reflection."

Fasalina eyed them a moment. "I suppose a name isn't that important," She decided on, lips curling a bit when she caught them both wince. "I mean, what is a name, really?"

Sheik looked at the ground. Light snorted. "A liability." He'd found another dagger to play with as he answered. Fasalina laughed, a light, bell-like noise, and led them to the makeshift clinic. Many eyes – silver, gold, obsidian like gems – rose up from their listless nothing to focus on the newcomers. Some of them widened, probably at… well. There was a lot of blood.

Sheik's arm really didn't look so good.

"I won't turn INTO a wolfos, right?"

"I don't think you've ever turned into a shadow caster from Light biting you, so I'm forced to assume the same rule applies to wolfos."

"Hey. Don't compare my mouth to one on those slavering-"

"Ow."

"Damnit, Sheik, sit down before you hurt both of us."

Sheik shot him a guilty look from where he'd gone to look at a sleeping dragonling and sat. Fasalina, busy crushing herbs with a pestle, didn't bother scolding them.

She rarely did even if she wasn't busy. Oh well.

Sheik sat through his clinic visit in relative silence. He barely seemed to notice the needle sliding in and out of him as his shoulder was stitched up, and when he did decide to speak it was only to look Fasalina in the face and say, with a sort of amazed numbness, "It's been a month since my sister died."

Fasalina's fingers did not jerk, and the needle stayed diligent in its purpose. "I'm sorry, Sheik." She said quietly, no trace of her smile left. A few feet away, Light broke down into sharp, pathetic sobs. His whole body wracked and shuddered, and he was curled up now and trying to hide his face behind his arms. Sheik did nothing but stare off into space, neither moving to give comfort or take it.

Fasalina patched them up and waited patiently.

* * *

Groose had left for Skyloft. He'd promised to find medicine. Zelda stayed with Link, of course. She changed his clothes and wiped his forehead with a cold, wet cloth, and kept him bundled up. Her dagger never left her belt, and Link's sword wasn't far from hand.

The temple was silent and lonely through the day.

Groose returned an hour before sunset with a bag of potions and instructions from Luv. He made Zelda go to bed, gave Link his evening dose, and took his turn of the vigil.

* * *

Three days of vomiting, sobs, sweat and misery later, and Link's fever broke.

Three minutes of confused stares and questions later, and Link tried not to die of embarrassment. How did you meet someone's eyes after they took care of you sick for three days? He didn't even remember stumbling out of the temple to use the bathroom, though both of them were insistent that he had.

"Thank the goddess!" Added Groose. Zelda kept from punching him on the arm because… well. She was kind of in agreement.

"What about the supplies?" Link croaked, rubbing his eyes miserably. Zelda and Groose blanched.

"Uhm…"

"It's been three or four days… we don't know how long Kafei will be gone for." He shuddered and wrapped a blanket tight around himself. "Cold…"

He was right, though. This put their plans back… a lot.

"It doesn't matter." Groose blurted. Zelda nodded emphatically.

"Just get some more rest. We'll figure it out tomorrow!"

Link eyed them both from his blanket shroud. They sent him broad, comforting grins. He looked skeptical.

"Hey! What's with that face? Have some faith, will ya?!"

"…"

"Do it or I sit on you."

"Groose is right, Link. We'll take care of things. Sleep."

Groan. "Yes, mom."

Zelda's eyes narrowed. Once assured that Link was feeling better, she pinched him and walked away.

"OW! Zelda!"

"Haha, that's what you get~"

There was a fantastic thud when Link tripped Groose for his remark.

* * *

**TBC**

**Thanks to Myou for betaing. On a sidenote, Fasalina isn't mine - she's a character from GunXSword who started out in RPs because we needed someone to work for Ghirhaim and no one worked, nor did either of us have an OC to fit the part. A lot of Thief Azazel, Traitor and Violet was rped at some point, actually, sometimes several times. Oh chaos theory...**


	5. Mage Needs Red Potion, Badly

Chapter note: the POVs in this story are all biased. Anything said in the narrative, therefore, should be taken with a pound of salt, especially as uttered by a grieving relative. Shoulda put that in chapter 1…

* * *

**Chapter 5: Mage needs red potion, badly**

The dreams echoed on like a bad memory. There was something ugly about them, ever present, festering inside the heart like a maggot-riddled wound. Oh, who was he kidding… that heart?

It _was_ the ugly thing.

Well, what did one expect from children raised in the viper's nest?

Hatred was a constant companion. Pain, fear, and hatred. Those perfect little hylians in their perfect little world – _that _was what Impa had died for?!

That festering, hideous, _wonderful _hatred they craved, thrived with, _existed on_ was hardly just for them though. They weren't _selfish_ in their anger. Hylia, for leaving the sheikah sworn to _Her_ behind. Demise, for killing them, their parents, and their perfect little bubble in the world. Even more than Demise, they hated Ghirahim, because Demise didn't gloat. He didn't even bring it up, and it was… it was like a Monday, to him, without Hylia to rub it into. They could understand Mondays. They'd filled a few up with murder themselves. But Ghirahim… oh, it was because of how he _gloated _about the screams, got off on the memory of how he'd made them suffer…

Yes… it was easy to say they hated Ghirahim most of all besides, perhaps, Hylia. It would always come back to Hylia.

It was Hylia's own fault she was hated. It was her fault Demise's army had grown so strong, it was her fault he wasn't dealt with by gods instead of mortals, and it was her fault that beautiful, smart, perfect Impa had died, for her protection because a bloody fucking goddess couldn't protect _herself_. Stupid, lovely, noble Impa, whose heart was too big and she had… she'd…

She had died for her duties. This was noble to a sheikah, and awful to anyone with sense. _She didn't have to die. She didn't have to. This was all for that girl!_

That Zelda. Not even a true goddess anymore. Just… just a little girl.

Impa had died to save a little girl.

The ugly tendrils of malice curled deeper around their heart.

It would be a lie, of course, to say jealously never had sway on their minds. The jealousy of children deprived of love and family, grown into adults deprived of being children, and being human… it was an ugly truth, how ugly and inhuman they had become. Monsters. And still they were bitter, and they were small and broken in their minds.

And Impa? She had been their last tether to that life. Impa was gone. Their older sister who was supposed to love them more than anything, take care of them, was _gone, _for _her. _Yes…. Jealousy was very much in their hearts.

(_Weren't we enough? Weren't we enough for you to stay for-?... didn't you love us enough to stay? What did we do what did we do Impa please no don't please __**please please please-**__)_

Yes. Well. His thoughts were slipping in an ugly place again…. A breath and he was back to clinical, delicate, as cold as ever. He needed that, he preferred it. Now, as for the two of them…? He'd call them heartbroken, but he is thoroughly convinced that they don't have hearts. Had them magically excised as children, as it was, and even if they did have them… they would have been broken, long before this… so many drops to the cold ground made it inevitable.

There wasn't a thought that didn't hurt their chest, in this moment. The happy ones hurt the worst, because those came with _guilt _and _pain _because Impa was dead and _how dare they smile when she was __**gone?!**_

But that was okay now, as okay as these things could ever be (even when things were on fire, well, they could rationalize it and say 'it's okay, because…') because soon, soon they would join Impa… Fasalina would do her best to stop it, but that was okay.

Fasalina was the person they would not blame. Maybe because she had loved them.

Maybe because they had needed someone to be blameless. Goddess knew it wasn't them that could be. The traitor prince who murdered his kind and would bring about ruin…

Doomed from their birth. Destiny was a cruel bitch. If they died, it was all over…

And Light was fine with that.

* * *

It was early morning, little bits of light shining through the cracks of a once-grand ceiling. Sheik wasn't faring worse, but he wasn't faring better… and every time Light awoke, it was a greater trouble than last time. It was like his body didn't want to get up. _Imagine_.

Consciousness was on the other side of a sea of sludge. The black clung to him and screamed when he tried to thrash and swim through it, dragging his limbs, trying to drown him so he'd never give it so much of a fuss again. Yes, sludge, he knew he was ungrateful. _LET GO!_

He gagged on it, eyes squinting, lungs heaving, and broke for the surface. Some fuzzy voice asked if this would be the last time he would have to.

It was… it was the same as it had been. Light's fingers seemed foggy, but it could've been his eyes. The dragons were crepuscular, so in the nice midday… the palace was silent, as it had probably been for hours. He laid back and dozed, not really 'asleep' as he had but, but… just to calm himself, just to stay calm long enough.

Fasalina never seemed to sleep for long. Her soft footsteps told him she was checking on them – _fussy, so fussy… we either live or die, you know, it's absurd to keep checking like that will change the result if you just do it enough. Or do you think we'll die if you don't keep coming?... it will happen either way, I think._

There was a soft wind like leaves falling into the room, which it very well could've been from the decrepit state of things, including the overgrown grounds. Unbeknown to them, a little crow had flown into the room where they were resting. Fasalina let it alone, and when Light 'awoke' from his musing doze, it was staring at him.

Something about its eye seemed warm, weirdly enough, so he opened his arms and let it sit on him, then went back to sleep…. Honest sleep, something about the situation seeming complete to him, ideal. Warm daylight on a soft pillow, inside a palace, and with the messenger of kind-faced Death himself?… not the worst way to go. It was peaceful, warm like the summer sun… the soft song of a lullaby echoed in the recesses of his mind. The warring world faded to peaceful, perfect white.

_This is death…?_

_Finally! I can sleep…_

For a sheikah, death was not a cruel thing. Death was the ultimate truth, the unsubvertable constant. Death itself was not something to be feared, but one was admired more for wanting to live, if they could. If they could.

But they were not sheikah, and this was not their choice. Herbs would not help Sheik. They had nothing.

They would die. Light was… Light was fine with that.

* * *

Dreams were such ugly things. Zelda had never really liked her dreams, but since her snatching at the hands of a tornado, that dislike had blossomed into hatred as gracefully as her 'blossoming' into womanhood. Screams and blood included! Of course, this was another dream she owed that flamboyant, sadistic, melodramatic-

Ladies shouldn't use such language. Not even in their sleep.

But, yes. Zelda was dreaming of a memory, and though she knew this she was perfectly still and detached from herself, watching poor past-Zelda go through the motions of destruction.

Soon the pins that held her hair in its neat, pretty style were ruined. So were the shackle locks that had chained her like a bird to the filthy, burning ground.

_Run. Find a knife, find a knife._

_**Run. **__He cannot catch you. __**Don't let them catch you!**_

She ran. She fell and scuffed her knees, her hands, her pretty pink dress, and she _ran._

_Link be okay oh goddesses please be okay_

She ran, and she ran… it was hot, sweltering, until it was all she could do to _breathe _in the oppressive heat of the earth temple.

The screech and chatter of bokoblins, crashing pottery, _that man's_ mad screaming.

The cold hand darting out and pulling her into the darkness.

The icy vice of fear on her heart when another hand covered her mouth and she was trapped in the dark.

The bokoblins ran by, knives raised. She felt lips beside her ear, breathe, and a soft noise. She shuddered. The lips smiled.

"_Sorry for this rude introduction. I'm here to help."_

Well, either she was telling the truth and Zelda was safe-r, or she was a liar and Zelda needed to break her hold and _run._

Something pressed against her fingers, and they curled around it automatically.

The hilt of a dagger.

The scale tipped to trust. She fled the temple with the woman, Ghirahim's monsters on their heels.

The doors of _sanctuary _banged shut behind them, and she saw her savior in the light for the first time. Tall, willowy, with feathers on her belt and strange clothes dyed deep, endless black…

"Who are you?"

And what a smile. "Impa. It is a pleasure to meet you, my lady." She bent on one knee and kissed Zelda's hand.

Zelda squawked and fell over in a mess of ruined skirts.

* * *

The first thing she thought, after waking, was _what an embarrassing dream… _ugh. You just didn't _do _that in Skyloft!

"_What is it? Are you alright?"_

"_What the heck was that! Just because you helped me doesn't mean you can- can- start making __**moves**__!"_

Zelda covered her face with her hands and groaned. Yeah, not a good memory, but her tired mind was stubborn. It kept playing.

"… _making… I do not understand."_

"_You kissed me!" She backed up, eyes bright with alarm. Damnit, she'd _just _gotten away from that rapey-freak and now she had- had- _**this to contend with?!**

_The woman named Impa blinked, adjusted her stance so she was just that little bit taller. She looked… confused. Zelda didn't buy it, not for a second. "Is this not your custom?"_

"_NO!"_

"_Then I apologize." Impa blinked at her and bowed. "How may I make it up to you, my lady?"_

"_Uh… huh?" That was – off from the usual creepiness. And what was with all this formal speech…? She'd never seen this woman before in her life!_

"_My name is Zelda. Do I know you?"_

_Impa's smile returned. "Zelda." She murmured, wondering. "A fitting name." And she bowed, low and humble. "I am a loyal servant of the goddess, here to aid you."_

"… _the goddess?" Oh… _oh!_ "Hylia? You know about her?"_

"_Of course! Tales of her sacred maiden have been carried down for years… I have trained to aid you. But, we are wasting time. You must be purified, and then we haven't time to dally."_

Impa was so serious. She could be sweet, but she was so horribly serious. Her skin was cold, strange when the color of it was so _warm, _like the terracotta in the Earth temple. Her smiles were warm, too, and she was strict… so, so strict.

Zelda smiled a little behind her hands. She was a little mean, too, and she hadn't thought much of Link when she'd met him. She'd openly questioned what Zelda saw in him.

"_Well… he's my friend. I've known him forever… I'd trust him with my life… and it's really funny to tease him, he makes the best faces. Like when I push him off cliffs."_

"… _you what."_

And she was quiet, and she didn't talk all that much for a while after the first temple. But when she did, they were camping, and it was… nice.

Impa was nice. Zelda wished she could've stayed closer to her, talked more, but time hadn't allowed it.

"_What do you do?... besides save knights in tough spots, I mean."_

_Impa's smile was soft, small, and almost-hidden by the cant of her head while she cooked them dinner. "Hm? I'm a priestess. I maintain the temples, keep records… things like that."_

"_That sounds…" Boring, but, Impa seemed happy with it, "Good, I think. Do you like it?"_

"_I'm quite happy with my lot in life, my lady."_

"_Zelda."_

"… _my lady Zelda." She ignored Zelda's huffing and whining._

"_Well, fine… what about outside that? Do you have a boyfriend? Parents?"_

"_Younger brothers. My parents were killed by Demise. … don't make that face, lady Zelda. It's hardly a new concept."_

"_That doesn't make me feel better, you know…"_

"_Don't dwell on it. Their death is practically cliché… before you get on me for being cavalier, it has been a __**very **__long time."_

"_How long?... tell me." She leaned forward, head in her hands. Impa sighed, wistful, as she gazed into the fire._

"_Centuries." She stoked the fire. "I lost my brothers that night, too… they're not dead. But they're out of my reach, now. I cannot help them."_

"… _oh…" No…_

_Impa's smile never left her lips. "Perhaps, once this is over… I will be able to reach them, again. But that's a depressing topic, lady Zelda, wouldn't you say?"_

"_Even if it's depressing… it should be talked about…?"_

"_Should it? I see no point discussing 'maybes' when we have such a monumental task still looming. We should eat and go to bed."_

_Psssh. "You're so serious all the time." Some part of her found that funny, since she'd said similar things to Link so many times before… and now she was in his place. Damned, she missed him more than she thought._

"_One of us has to be."_

"_Yeah, okay…" A sigh. "Impa?"_

"_Mhmm?"_

"_Tell me what you'd like to do when we're done?"_

_Impa paused, ladle going still in their pot of dinner. "… well." She paused a moment, expression conflicted and eyes bright. She looked unsure, and it was… well, it was kind of adorable. It was the first time Zelda had seen her off her game and not furious for it. "… I suppose first, I would like to take a long bath… I… I hate all this grime we've been trudging through…"_

And then she'd wanted to show Zelda the top of Faron woods, and then see Skyloft herself, if they could. Zelda had wanted to take her. She'd wanted to show her the statue of the goddess, and the loftwings, and the school she'd grown up in. She wanted her to see what really _flying _was like, and to listen to her argue with Owlan and Horwell, and to introduce her to indoor plumbing, since Impa mentioned that she'd only ever bathed outside.

She'd wanted to show her the windmill, and the waterfalls, and the gossip stones. If Impa hadn't died, Zelda would have gladly shown her everything.

All of those happy thoughts and smiles were dropped and shattered, as delicate as the bracelet that had told them _that was your friend._

Impa was more than that, though. Impa was someone who made this place feel _safe._

She had, for months, made Zelda feel like it could be _home._

* * *

The sun was shining so bright it hurt. Link nibbled his food and tried to think happy thoughts.

… by now 'it wasn't working' shouldn't even count as a punch line, right? He hoped not. Groose came and sat beside him, a frown on his broad face, and Link prepared for anything ranging from 'we're out of toilet paper again' to 'I need to know how to make the bokoblins stop streaking in the courtyard, give me ideas'.

… Groose could be surprisingly hard to read once he'd stopped panicking over something. Right now he looked thoughtful though, like he did when he was stuck on a stubborn problem with the Groosenator.

That stupid, glorious catapault. Groose should've apprenticed to the blacksmith. He had better TALENTS, damnit. … Not that Link was going to mention any of that without a good mug of frothy milk first.

Eventually, the giant (Link refused to believe in, or admit to, his own shortness) spoke. "Zelda was crying this morning."

Oh. Was that all? Yeah, Zelda cried. People did that. Link cried too, and Fi had been less than understanding for a long time with it. It's really hard to tell someone to fuck off for telling you you're being illogical when you know they mean well but… holy fucking shit couldn't Hylia have forged her with some bloody _compassion_?

Ehem. "I heard her." Link settled on, shrugged, and finished off his food. Then he just… sat. Well, damn, maybe he should've stuck to nibbling; now he felt awkward. And let the thumb twiddling… begin.

Groose shifted. He looked so uncomfortable. "… Well?"

Link gave him an incredibly blank look. '_Well what, Groose?'_

Groose seemed frustrated. Silly goose. Er. Groose. "Well, should we ask?" He bit off, shoulders going up, hands rising in some subconscious attempt to defend himself. Against, what? Link?

Oh well. If he didn't get it, that was… well, it was Groose. Link glanced at him, considering, before he tried to explain. "If we heard you crying, would you want us to? Come and… talk to you about it?" Impa was dead. He couldn't walk five feet without thinking that some days, and that was probably normal. His mind trying to… trying to force the reality into place, make it fit. It really, really didn't want to fit…

He'd cried a lot, too. He wouldn't lie about that. He'd just be walking in the woods and then… well…

At least, he was alone. Link didn't want to be seen when he was so full of shame it felt the need to _spill out his eyeballs._

Groose was still thinking about what to say, Link guessed, because he definitely wasn't taking that long to decide. Groose was super-private and super macho. He would have none of this 'feelings' nonsense with anyone he wasn't truly and honestly intimate with. The mindset was something of the norm on Skyloft, though. Link and Zelda _were_ a little weird with how much they touched. Link, obviously, didn't think anything of it unless he'd just been pushed off a cliff. Again.

Oh, wait, that was it. Groose was trying to be kind of nice-ish about it, and probably still quantifying his thing-that-maybe-wasn't-anymore for Zelda. Oh! That made sense. "Uh- well… not you, probably. Like… if you saw me…" Groose would be horribly embarrassed, lie badly to cover it up, and then yell at him. Good old Groose. "And with Zelda…"

That was easy, too. Link let a small, snarky grin slip onto his lips. "You'd reassure her that nothing could ever make the BIG, MANLY Groose cry, right?" He drawled, sly as the weird fox-things that stalked the forest.

"… yeah." Groose looked at Link. It wasn't a short look, at all, and the raw intelligence in it, its _calculation, _actually… actually made Link a little nervous. Groose was an airhead, and usually that covered the fact that he'd aced the practicals in school… "… you changed." Groose said, his weird amber eyes narrowed and thin lips pursed.

And, yeah, sometimes he forgot that Groose was a lot smarter than he seemed, just because he wasn't so good with… with people. "_I _changed?"

"Yeah, you." Groose snorted and leaned back to look him over.

Link called bullshit. He hadn't changed, not really. Maybe had a ltitle more trouble sleeping at night, and he could beat you with a bug net, sure. But he – the part of him that was _Link, _that hadn't changed a bit. "You're kidding! It's just that you're talking to me now…" Because before, he and Groose's speaking was limited to 'why're you hogging Zelda?'

'Nice hair'

'RAWR!'

… Yeah. Not the best way to get to know a guy. Actually, it was no wonder they'd both assumed the other was an idiot for so long. Ahaha…

"No, you've definitely changed." Groose continued to assert. … okay so maybe he _was _an idiot. Or lacked listening skills, but Link already knew that. All the knocks to the head he got for being super-forward with Zelda, of all women, couldn't have helped. She _liked _Link and she pushed him off cliffs. What did Groose _think _would happen? Eesh…

Speaking of. It was time to knock this conversation as neatly off course as his own thoughts, because he just wasn't up for this argument. "Yeah, whatever. Nice hair, by the way. Very mid-life crisis."

All of the color drained from Groose's face. He looked like a stalfos's femur. Link tried not to beam.

"NO ONE INSULTS THE 'DO!" Groose bellowed, and leapt at him like a rabid remlit. Link tried to flee the flying tackle to a miserable, predictable lack of avail.

"OW!"

Link's shouts of pain and struggles and insistence that Groose was crushing him did nothing, until Groose in his battle-fog decided to style Link's hair, and it was terrible, and Link cried to himself while the giant oaf sat on his back and calmed down. Eventually, horribly, Groose's rage cleared. And he continued his monologue. Double-damnit, all that stupidity had been for NOTHING. "But, yeah, Link. You changed. I mean… you were always off in your head before. Now you're looking and, like, noticing things. People and stuff." Very concise, Groose, thank you. Link was regretting calling him smart now, headspace be damned.

"… aren't you doing that too? Anyway, I… I always noticed Zelda."

_Zelda was all that I had, besides the other half of my soul. _Ah, he missed his loftwing… and he was missed, he knew. The tug in his chest was ever-present. … It hadn't helped the bouts of crying to have that there, no, but at least his bird was _alive._

Link sighed. "It's hard to explain, okay?... can you get off me?" If Groose did then Link would try, anyway, to explain it. But… well, it was Groose. Once he got an idea in that empty pompadour-pedestal… (Zelda informed him that was a "head", sorry.)

Groose removed himself. Link shook his head. Tangents aside… "Look, Zelda's a girl." He began, holding up a hand. "So she's got hips and she slept upstairs at the academy, and also I guess she could have kids if she wanted, but I really hope she doesn't because if Zelda had children they'd be little terrors. And that, like, that's it. That's all that's different about her for being a girl. That doesn't mean you should treat her any different than a guy, like… like if Fledge had wide hips and the ability to pop out Fledglings, he'd still be Fledge. So I think I mean – she, she's Zelda first… just like you're Groose first, and I'm Link first. Yeah?" He asked, stumbling through worse than when Headmaster Gaepora had given he and Zelda the bird and the bees talk. Well, shit, that's what it came down to, wasn't it? "She's uh. She's not any more delicate than us. Actually I think we're comparatively the delicate ones."Since Groose couldn't leave the temple and Link had needed a lot of tools to, while Zelda had just… GONE? Yeah. Yeah, Zelda was kind of a badass, and if anyone begrudged her that for wearing a pink dress Link didn't have to deck them 'cause she would…

Groose took a moment to ponder that, his lips pursed in an almost-comical expression of thoughtfulness. "… yeah." He decided on, drawing the word out, "Yeah. That makes sense. Thanks, Link."

"… no problem," It was pretty obvious to him, but okay… "Just… if she's upset…"

"We all are. There's no point making her try to hide it more." And that was about the gist of it. Link was glad that Groose actually had a brain under all that hair, even if pride usually swallowed it. Link also thought to himself that it'd be nice if Zelda didn't think she _had _to hide her feelings from them, because it was okay to be not on top of things all the time, but that was Zelda for you… from the frown on his face and the furrow of his brow, Groose was probably thinking the same.

"… _noble maid…" _Link heard him mutter. Yep… definitely something like that.

But Zelda as a noble maid he just couldn't let stand. He was her friend before her champion, and Zelda's idea of noble femininity was hiding a stash of smut under her bed as big as Skyloft's _library._ "Groose, she's Zelda." Link gestured a moment, not really sure how to say 'stop putting her on a pedestal! We used to hide under the stairs and make fart noises when people walked by!' without upsetting Groose's delicate psyche. "She's REALLY not as, uh… she's not like the girls in books and old stories, okay?" Was what he settled on, after he'd judged the story a poor one to recite. Zelda would probably punch him if their pre-school days were brought up in such a fashion… Hell, punching people and shoving them off cliffs was hardly a paragon of tradition femininity, either… Nor was the insistence at rescuing herself, running off with sheikah, training to be a knight… psh. Zelda was hotter with a sword than an apron anyway though.

Link took a moment to suppress a gag.

Groose kept going. "She's a fair maiden! I will think that no matter how many bokoblin skulls she brings back." They were getting a pretty big pile of those. They needed to do something with them. "She still cares for her looks and wears pretty dresses!" Pretty, pretty dresses. Maybe a belt of bokoblin skulls to complement one? Or some new hair thingies. Zelda liked hair-thingies, and her birthday was coming up!... was it tacky to give your friend already-tacky belt buckles-turned-hair-thingies that she'd actually brought back herself?

… meh. Details.

"And you spend five hours on your hair. Does that make you a girl? Stop talking about me." Zelda ordered from the temple doorway, striding by with a huff when they both fell over from surprise. (Always unappreciative to be the object of speculation, also not very feminine. She should be greatful to be objectified and put on a pedestal in short time!) "_Boys._" She was walking along with her self-made list, trying to ensure they had at least enough for _them _of all the items listed. They had a bit of food, clean water, some pelts… Their potions were replenished, at least. The red potions went blessedly unneeded in Link's illness, but they were great to have on hand when you lived in a forest full of things trying to kill you.

* * *

There was a man standing in the light. He was smiling, but it wasn't a _welcome_ smile (which would have, anyway, been horrendously foreign to Light) and it wasn't a cruel smile, or a malicious one by any stretch of the mind, as he had at first thought it might be. No, Light stood looking at him for a long while, wondering exactly what that smile meant. No… no… no…

Pity?

… yes. That was… Light thought that was… a pitying smile on the man's face. But why? What was there about them to be pitied?

The man had dark skin, black robes, and hair like snow… eyes a piercing, magnificent red and something in Light's head _clicked _like the gears in a temple door's lock.

_We died._

A lifetime of possibilities, snuffed out in the dirt of Demise's old haunt. Their bodies wouldn't even be dealt with properly.

_He's death._

So how was He here? Their souls shouldn't have ever left, unless that little crow had been a very close messenger to His heart…? The ground made no noise when Light tried to bow and stumbled, falling to his knees.

"Little one, don't be so swift to bow to me."

"You are the First Truth and the Last."

"… I'm not a truth for you quite yet, shadow caster."

Light's eyes flickered. He raised them to the spectre of death, kind and not, aged or sudden…

His claws stretched wide, encompassing a world of possibilities that Light's eyes which could break past illusion, simply couldn't comprehend.

"Your other half isn't dead, shadow caster," The God repeated with a gentle look about him, lips almost-parted in a serene smile. "And I would prefer if you two didn't join me yet."

"What? Is the cistern not ready for us?"

"… the fact that you assume you're going there is somewhat troubling, but, yes. Your fates could be averted."

On one hand, Sheik not in the cistern would be nice. On the other, Light didn't really give a rat what happened to _him_.

"… I'm very tired, my lord. I wish to rest."

"You can save him, you know." His heart skipped a beat.

Saving Sheik. That was different than clinging on as Light.

"… how?" He rasped with suddenly-dry lips, eyes wide. The Lord of the First and Final Truth crooked a claw, and bowed his head.

"The hylians you so hate, as it were, hold the key to saving your brother… my child…"

"What is it? What can I do?"

The bird-god hesitated, eyes wide in the light. "… now, keep in mind, Light, that anything you take must be repaid…"

_A life for a life. An eye for an eye, and a hand for stealing… of course, your Grace, I'm well aware. I've doled out these judgments many times, personally. _That was disrespectful. He bit his tongue. "You said it could save Sheik. So tell me." It didn't occur to him that he was brazenly demanding things of a corporeal god, and that was worse than a few disrespectful words. _If_ he was. This could just be a dying hallucination, some fucked up dream that he was getting in his death throws, on how he could make some last ditch effort to save Sheik and they'd shit rainbows and live happily ever after… ugh. He really hoped it wasn't. That would be the most vile, human thing he'd ever done. Blegh!

But… Light twitched and fidgeted, scowled, thrashed a little and tried to look somewhere far away, away from the God and away from the vision that was only in his head. It was for _Sheik_. It was always for Sheik, and the strange, sudden cry to _live _filled their chest long enough for him to spit out, "I don't care. So. Tell me!"

And he who asked for knowledge from the God, who _demanded it _as though it were his right, as if anything was… was rewarded. The God's smile seemed brighter, less melancholy in the strange maybe-sun, and he exuded _warmth _and_ light _and Light felt a twinge of regret curl in his side because, someone like that, they made it feel like… like home. But, even dying, they would not pass to beloved Iblis's claws, so he had to keep them in existence…

He bowed his head and waited. And he was rewarded. Iblis's voice was a gentle rumble, smooth, untarnished by the screaming that had plagued Light's life… "Pay close mind to what I say. In Faron's woods, there is a bottle full of liquid most _red…" _And Light perked forward, ever-attentive.

* * *

Obliviousness was a hero's defining trait, at the beginning of an adventure.

Yes. Unsuspecting heroes, _tossed _as if into a tornado (haha) and left out, disoriented, in some strange new land to fend for themselves.

Zelda had never read a book where they actually got dragged up into a tornado before now, though. She wondered if anyone would believe their story years down the line. Also, she wanted pumpkin soup something fierce. She missed the Lumpy Pumpkin, even if the daughter of the place kept smiling at Link flirtatiously and it was a little hard to watch without wanting to bang her head into a wall after the first five minutes of Link: Baffled Edition. He was convinced Kina hated him.

Zelda was certain that she rather liked his muscles, though. So good for hard labor! Not that she'd blame her, muscles were nice.

"We need pumpkins." Zelda said to no one in particular. "Yes. Pumpkins. Lots of pumpkins."

"Uh… okay?" Cawlin looked to Stritch for guidance. Groose had asked them to come down and help – Cawlin had been having a lot of trouble sleeping lately, and he thought maybe it was the school, so he had jumped on board. Stritch had been enticed with the promise of seeing some of the many, many bugs Link had brought back over the last few months…

Of course, as soon as they'd gotten there Groose had given them to Zelda like servants. Gah.

"Well?" she asked them after a long moment in which she had stood staring at Cawlin, and he stared back, while Stritch crept along after a beetle, giggling to himself.

Weirdo.

"Uh…" He didn't know what she expected from him.

"Go find a place to plant some!"

"Uh-" The urge to ask her what the hell she was _on_ was overridden by his will to _live. _He'd seen her knock Groose around on training day. He didn't want to find out if that had been Groose taking a dive.

Fuck. _That._

Cawlin fled.

Zelda, assuming he was going off to do as told, nodded to herself and went back to gathering berries that they knew were edible. (She thanked Impa for that, because otherwise they would have to rely on Link's 'eat some and see what happens' school of tactics.)

* * *

Meanwhile, Link was attempting to hunt, with the assistance of the kikwi. For some reason.

Even though they were plants, and photosynthesized their food (their attempts to explain this process to him were not successful, beyond 'no, we definitely can't teach you to do it. Even though you're wearing green. Yes, we know life isn't fair.'

Zelda and Groose were gonna kill him. Link crept a little closer to the edge of the cliff and eyed the long-eared-maybe-remlit thing below him. It was pink and green, it hopped in circles, and every once in a great while it would breathe fire.

And Link was gonna kill it. He'd go for a lizalfos, but… food that could kick you in the face? Yeah, he didn't need to end up critically injured today. They had _stuff _to do, as Groose had put it. _Important stuff._

… That and there was something honestly squicky about eating something clearly intelligent. Even if it was willing to eat YOU.

(Whenever Zelda brought back 'mystery meat', Link tried not to imagine what it was. … but he knew it was bokoblin, yeah. The red ones were tenderer than the blue or green, as it were… Egh.)

A flash of black in the treetops above him, and a shadow blotting the sun for a second, stole his concentration.

He looked up to see the tails of a cloak disappearing back into the trees and went for his sword. It wasn't Fi, but it would have to do. _Who the hell was that?!_

Maybe it was a sheikah. He wasn't taking chances.

Link bolted after it.

It- they slid through the treetops like smoke, slithering around, under and over obstacles that Link couldn't even _reach_. Well it had to be something then, didn't it? Either a sheikah or a ghost. Or an angry Owlan but this wasn't the time to remember what he was like out of those robes and in a pique.

The interloper slithered like a shadow at dusk.

He leapt into the sun between the trees and the temple roof, and Link _saw him. _The man from the forest, the sharp-tongued interloper who had threatened Zelda and had come around with that damned _fox._

Outside of tree-shadows, his hair was stark white, and his skin was like snow. He reminded Link of a corpse – and that gave him pause.

Link started running again, though. He _could not let _someone like that into Impa's sanctuary!

Another failed attempt at slamming open the doors, another moment of blindness as he went from _sun _to _shadows, _and him slamming the bastard in the gut when he tried to slip around Link. He wasn't a fucking tree branch to duck, thank you!

"Urk!"

"Pardon me!" Link grunted and pounced while the guy was down. He didn't feel like a corpse – his skin was warm, hot to the touch, and- holy fucking shit this guy glowed. What the hell was he dealing with here?!

Something human. He could head-butt humans.

_**Crack. **_The man groaned.

Link set about tying him up immediately – ha, best whip ever, IT EVEN STUCK TO ITSELF – and taking back what he'd been trying to steal.

"Our potions? _Seriously?!"_

"I need them more than you at the moment!" He snapped back, sounding dazed, wheezy, and _angry._

Well, Link could understand angry, he was right there with him.

"You look fine to me!"

"I need the red stuff or both of us will die!" The unwanted guest insisted, thrashing in his bonds. He glared at Link. "You're supposed to be a hero, aren't you? Let me go! I'll pay it back, so…"

The gears in Link's head had started turning back at both of us. He couldn't mean Link, couldn't possibly be that delusional, so…

"Whoever you mentioned before," He realized. "They're hurt?"

"Dying." The man repeated with a snarl.

"And you'll pay it back."

"_YES!"_

Hmm. Link considered the surface native with a great deal more interest. "If I just let you run off with it I'll never see you again, though." The look in the guy's eye said he'd been counting on that. Slowly, his lips curled down more, and there was something grudging in his expression, instead of just the rage.

"… yes. What are you suggesting?"

And that was how Link ended up on a hurried trip across the woods with a weirdo in a black mantle. Zelda was gonna kill him.

**TBC**


End file.
